


Sparks

by BlackWolfFire



Series: Until Morning Light [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: And if your parents don't accept you, Fire, I don't care what you call me, I'm adopting you, I'm your dad/mom now, I'm your parent, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Pre-Apocalypse, Rated For Vee and Ro's Langauge, Roman Is A Butt, Short One Shot, Winged!AU, no beta we die like men, or agender peeps, or non binary people, or whatever you are, or women, you're all valid and amazing and I love you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 12:46:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWolfFire/pseuds/BlackWolfFire
Summary: The stupid match wouldn't light, and it was honestly pissing him off.





	Sparks

**Author's Note:**

> Part two

He flicked the match across the rough side of the box, watching hopefully, his nose just inches from the end of the match. There was a spark, a flicker of what might have been fire, and then it was gone. Roman groaned, trying again, with the same results. The match snapped on the third attempt, and he dropped it in frustration, flopping back onto his bed. "Shit."

"You called?" Virgil leaned against the door frame, smirking. Roman automatically snapped back at him, much harsher than he had intended.

"Shove it up your ass," Roman growled at him, launching himself upright and glaring at the Side in the doorway. He immediately put a hand over his mouth, horrified, but the damage was done. The smile dropped from Virgil's face, and he backed away.

"Okay, jeez, I was just gonna tell you dinner was ready. No need to get all pissy with me, Your Highness."

"Virge, wait-" Roman called, scrambling to his feet and running for the door.

"Save it, Roman, I'm not in the mood," Virgil hissed, turning and stalking back down the hall.

They didn't speak when Roman finally emerged from his room for dinner, and they didn't say a word to each other the next morning at breakfast.

By the time lunch rolled around the following day, Roman couldn't even look Virgil in the eye, much to his horror. He was no coward! But meeting Virgil's gaze meant watching the way his purple and black wings drooped limply, seeing the way his hazel eyes had lost their spark, meant watching him as he ducked his head when Roman so much as moved his leg or shifted his wings.

Virgil had eventually forgiven him without a word being said, shuffling closer one night on the couch during  _Mulan_ , allowing their shoulders to touch, if briefly.

Ten years later, alone and scared, Roman wished he had apologized.


End file.
